


Primal Connection

by storyplease



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Impregnation, Magic, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 17:59:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5937724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storyplease/pseuds/storyplease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Author’s Note: I had a dream about this, so blame my subconscious mind, ok? Lots of naughty, sexy parts and things like that abound ahead! You’ve been warned! ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Primal Connection

**** “And  _ where _ do you think you’re going, Mr. Malfoy?”

 

Draco and his friends froze, turning around with frightened expressions at the sound of the oh-too-familiar voice.

 

“A...ahh….ahaha funny you should ask that, Professor,” he said, his eyes darting away from his tall, imposing, Head of House. “I was...er...just showing the boys what I do on my rounds as Prefect. You know, escorting them around, because...er...one can’t be too careful.  I might get sick and need a replacement after all.”

 

“Oh,  _ really _ ?” Snape’s voice deepened as he gave the thin Prefect a look that made him quiver with fear. “Then I suppose that you shall not mind... _ escorting _ them back to the common room, where they belong before one or all of you find yourselves needing to visit the Infirmary instead.”

 

Draco shrank back, covering his face as the others cowered, and Snape’s hand shot forward like a white snake striking at a small piece of yellow parchment that was gripped loosely in Draco’s hand, pulling it open and glancing at it with a sly expression.

 

“What’s this? A midnight rendezvous?  From...Miss Parkinson...to be held in the abandoned classroom at the end of the hall on the fourth floor? Do you take me for an idiot, Mr. Malfoy?”

 

“N...No!” Draco cried, shaking his head back and forth like a ragdoll.

 

“Good.  You shall go back to the common room and you shall go straight to bed.  And I hate to do this...but….ten points from Slytherin.  For each of you. I shall place your names on the board in the common room so that everyone knows what you’ve done to bring shame to our great House.”

 

Draco paled even more than before and Goyle looked green while Blaise and Crabbe merely looked up with wide, frightened eyes.

 

“But...Sir…” Blaise finally managed, his voice breaking a bit as Snape gave him a withering glare, “Can you at least give us a reason why we are to be punished?”

 

“Simple, Mr. Zabini,” Snape replied, stuffing the note into his robes and staring down his nose at the four, “It is because you were  _ caught _ . Some Slytherin students you are, tromping about in the middle of the night like a herd of wild elephants! It’s  _ disgraceful _ .”

 

They all hung their heads, looking at their feet with shame. 

 

It had been a particularly disgraceful year for Slytherin.  

 

First, the Dark Lord and his minions had all been defeated by Dumbledore after they’d sprung a relatively transparent trap for them by letting out fake information that Harry was to go to a special spring encampment for training purposes.  The tent was actually a Portkey, and once the Dark Lord and his followers were inside, they’d all been Portkeyed to the bottom of the Onyx mountain and were now permanently incarcerated in Tartarus, the Greek wizarding prison from which there was no escape as it only allowed one-way entry. Now, the Dark Mark was synonymous for being an idiot who would believe anything.  Both Crabbe and Goyle were quite glad they’d never gotten theirs and were now rather vocal about this fact.  Draco had to wear magical makeup on his every time he wanted to wear short sleeves or he risked being made a laughingstock.  

 

Secondly, Slytherin was already lagging in dead last after Dumbledore had awarded two hundred and fifty points to Harry for having fabulous hair and defeating Voldemort, even though he really hadn’t done anything at all. He hadn’t even been  _ there _ , for obvious reasons.

 

And thirdly, if all of that wasn’t bad enough, Slytherin had just lost their last quidditch game to Gryffindor because Malfoy had literally missed the Snitch by three millimeters.  

 

And Snape was in a foul mood because the only way he’d been able to keep Voldemort from dragging him into the tent as well was to intentionally piss off Bellatrix enough so that she’d broken his legs so he couldn’t walk.  Of course, he’d had the correct dose of Skele-Gro potion on his person on the off chance that she’d retaliate after his taunt about her stubby, spindly legs in a literal manner, but it had still hurt like hell, and he’d been in an overly foul mood for weeks, taking points from anyone for looking at him funny.  

 

Or at all.

 

There were still a number of people who wanted him sent to Tartarus as well, and Dumbledore was literally the only thing keeping him from getting a one-way ticket to literal hell, so he was trapped.  Trapped as a professor in a school he hated. The only good thing that had come of it was that Dumbledore hadn’t decided to go on his stupid little hunt for horcruxes.  After all, why bother destroying them when he could just rot in prison for all eternity without any way of escape?  Severus Snape was fairly certain that such a punishment would be far more terrifying than death for the Dark Lord.  He’d spent some time wondering if perhaps it was preferable to endure the alternative, but in the end, at least he could still have free time in the castle when he wasn’t dealing with obnoxious shenanigans.

 

And Slytherin students who couldn’t be sly if their lives depended on it.

 

The four melted into the shadows away from his wand-light and he could hear them descending the moving staircases, trying to throw the blame of their plight at one another.  Severus grumbled and rolled his eyes.  Now he’d have to go all the way to the fourth floor to punish Parkinson and whoever else she’d roped into her idiotic scheme.  Why she had to use the classrooms instead of the dorms was beyond him.  After all, as long as the students were of age (which Parkinson and her other friends were as far as he was aware), their bedroom shenanigans were of no interest to him as long as they got their schoolwork done and didn’t end up knocked up or diseased. But, as even First Years knew how to cast a proper contraception charm and could track their cycles using a simple spell, only an utter idiot would find themselves unwittingly with child.

 

As he strode up the stairs, he thought darkly about how everything was supposed to be over now that Voldemort was well and truly gone and yet it still wasn’t.  

 

“Same shite, different day,” he grumbled, pulling his dark robes up slightly in the front so that he wouldn’t trip on them as he climbed. “Bloody teenagers and their bloody stupid shenanigans.”

* * *

 

He reached the fourth floor easily enough, his wand at the ready.  He didn’t need to light the tip of it.  After all, he knew every stone in the castle by heart.  His dark eyes scanned the gloom, coming to rest on the bright line of light that shone from under a door at the far end of the hall to his left.  Readying his most devastating sneer, Snape pressed his fingers to the door.  It opened a crack and he drew back his lips, baring crooked yellow teeth.

 

“ _ Ah….ahhhhh……more _ !”

 

He paused, his eyes widening as an involuntary blush spread across his cheeks.  He’d broken up his share of snogging couples in the halls, but...this…

 

He opened the door a bit wider, cautiously moving it as though expecting a trap.  After all, this  _ was _ Parkinson. But what he saw made him freeze and he involuntarily put his hand over his mouth to mask his sharp intake of breath.

 

Candles were laid out upon the desks like a lighted pathway down to the far end of the room.  Bits of wax dripped down, sticking them firmly to the desks and chairs.  It was going to leave a nasty mess once they’d burnt out. And on the teacher’s desk at the front of the classroom...there was...

 

“Oh, Merlin,  _ yes _ !” moaned Hermione Granger, who lay almost completely naked across the desk on her back, her remaining clothing messily shoved aside as she thrust her fingers between her legs.

 

He vaguely registered the fact that he was beginning to pant somewhat loudly as he watched this spectacle before biting his tongue and chastising himself. 

 

Something was very,  _ very _ wrong.  Severus Snape could not believe that Hermione Granger of all people would be doing such a thing, especially not in a dark classroom all alone.  He cast a rather messy detection charm, but there was no one else in the room, no one who was benefitting from her rather lewd display other than….

 

“Oh bollocks,” he muttered under his breath as a hot line of arousal shot through him and filled his body.  For once, he was actually glad for wearing voluminous black robes rather than simply wearing them because they were practical.  It hid things like unwanted erections rather easily.

 

This wasn’t like him...his control was slipping...what was... _ oh god _ ...something  _ was _ in the room...a maddening scent that drew him like a moth to a flame.

 

Before he knew what he was doing, he’d slid through the gap in the door into the room and shut it behind him, warding it closed with a long practiced swish and flick of his wand.  He advanced upon her, desperately still telling himself that he was doing this to punish her, to say something humiliating that would snap her out of her utterly entrancing displ-

 

_ Control yourself, Snape! _

 

He gritted his teeth as he tried to think of something, anything to say, but his heart was now beating so quickly that the words simply wouldn’t come to mind.  By the time he reached the desk and the young woman who lay upon it, his wand was pointing at the ground and he was stooped over, his eyes fixated on her fingers, her body as she moaned and mewled and bucked against her movements, her mouth open and her eyes squeezed shut with the pleasure of it.

 

_ Merlin, she’s...beautiful. _

 

He shook his head back and forth violently, realizing that  _ something _ was happening even if he didn’t know what, but his body had begun to feel far away, his nose filled with a musky, sweet scent that drew him closer and closer until he was nearly on top of her.  He loomed over her, and, as a last resort, cleared his throat.

 

Nothing.  She simply writhed as she had before, and he noticed how taut and firm her nipples-

 

“ _ Stop _ it!” he hissed to himself.

 

Her eyes opened halfway then, and he instinctively stepped back, expecting her to scream, for her eyes to grow wide as she tried to hide her modesty. His eyes traveled down to her heaving chest, her nipples at attention in dark pink orbs that he desperately wished to taste, even though he’d never had feelings of this sort before for anyone, let alone a student.

 

An eighteen year old student.  Who was lying there….doing  _ such _ things….

 

“Hey, you,” she said, her teeth scraping over her bottom lip seductively. “C’mere.”

 

She raised her free hand, the one that had been digging into the woodgrain of the desk, steadying her body against her ministrations and raised it to his lips.  He quivered as her finger touched them.  She was so soft, so warm...how was she doing this to him?

 

“I-” he began.

 

His voice hitched in his throat.  He had meant to call out her surname and berate her, say something,  _ anything _ to prove that he wasn’t being a lecherous, old….

 

“Shh,” she said, “I ache...I ache  _ so _ much…I need  _ you… _ ”

 

She stilled her hand, the one at the apex of her thighs, and brought it up, up under his nose as he stood there frozen, his body rigid and his pupils blowing wide at the scent of her most intimate places.   
  
“Taste me,” she said breathily, her chest heaving. 

 

Though he fought it, his lips parted and she pressed her finger into his mouth where he sucked greedily on it, savoring its flavor. She drew her finger from his mouth and held out her arms as though beckoning him to embrace her.

 

“I...can’t...I...should... _ not… _ .” he was bending down, drawing closer and closer to her, his nose nearly pressing against hers.

 

“You can, and you should,” she replied dreamily, and he could feel her arms sliding around him, pressing his robes against her.

 

Oh Merlin, he was so, so lost.

 

Her mouth searched for his as she nuzzled against him face to face and she kissed him hungrily when she finally found his lips.  He nearly collapsed on top of her, moaning deeply into her mouth as she pulled him against her body, kissing and caressing him as his much-touted self control fell to pieces. He slid his arm under her, pulling him to her, savoring the sound of her mewling loudly with pleasure as his weight pressed against her body.

 

She moaned into his mouth as he brought his knee up onto the desk, moving over her until he was nearly covering her with his dark robes, their soft, thick material sliding down over both sides of the desk and enveloping her body.

 

“Mmmm, yes,” she moaned, “You have no idea how long I have waited for this.”

 

His face went scarlet.  Surely, she was joking!

 

“...Hn...you….”

 

But that was all he was able to say before her hands were at his waist, moving his robes aside and pressing up against his rather insistent erection.  He sucked in a sharp breath at her touch, his eyes going dreamy with lust as she slid her fingers around the outline of its length and moved them back and forth, drawing sensation forth from him as he tried to hold in his cries of pleasure. But she was not content with this, and her nimble fingers moved at his trousers, undoing the button and zipper, sliding them down over his hips and pulling at the elastic of his underpants.

 

“Are you  _ sure _ ?” he breathed, his body on fire with need for her.

 

“ _ Yes _ ,” she said.

 

“Her...Hermione!” he cried sharply as she pulled his cock free from the soft cloth of his underwear and encircled her fingers around the base of it, sliding upwards until he thought his mind might cleave in two.

 

“I love how you say my name, Professor,” she purred back, raising her head to kiss the tip of his nose as she brought her knees up, gently tugging at him until he’d shifted slightly and his hips were directly above hers.

 

“Please…” he panted, as she pulled gently at the head of his cock to position it at the open apex of her thighs, the heat and wetness nearly unbearable for him to resist. “Not that...call me...Se..hh...Severus.”

 

Her laughter was sweet and he smiled at the sound of it as she cupped the side of his face in her free hand and kissed him once more.

 

“Of course, Severus,” she said gently, “I want to call your name out when you fill me up.”

 

He felt his cock twitch at this, and his hips jerked slightly, pressing into the heat of her outer labia.

 

“Hngg! Yeshhhh,  _ keep _ ... _ going _ ,” she urged him breathlessly.

 

He pressed his lips against hers, his tongue slipping into her mouth as she met it with her own. Drawing back, he steadied himself on the desk, staring down at her loving half-lidded gaze. His head filled with heat and light as he slid slowly into her until he could go no further.  Hermione gasped and twitched against him, the heat of her driving him mad as she called out his name. 

 

And as though driven by instinct alone, he moved in her slowly and deliberately, finding the sweet spots she loved, the places that made him cry out as he pressed and slid and rode her to completion.  She bucked against him, her hands grasping into the fabric on his back, sliding forward to grab him under his chin as she kissed him hot and fast, and he slid down to her neck, licking and kissing her as she moaned hot and sweet into his ear.

 

It was heavenly.

 

His head filled with light, and his body stiffened above hers, she begged him to draw her orgasm from her body in steady, deliberate strokes.  As he moaned his assent into her mouth, he knew that he would give her this, he would give her anything she asked, anything to feel this way forever.

 

He couldn’t remember how long they’d been connected, how many times his body had filled her to bursting as she begged him to do it, her body shuddering in time with his own pleasure.  At some point, when he looked down at her, he could see that a bright rune was shining on the skin of her chest, just above where her heart was, a long thread of light linking it to his own chest, which was still covered with dark cloth. 

 

“I love you, Severus,” Hermione gasped, her voice husky as she pressed back against his thrusts.

 

“And I love  _ you _ , Hermione,” he murmured back, his lips whispering against her neck in a manner that made her shake with pleasure.

 

Vaguely, he could hear voices at the door in the background, but it was just buzzing noise that held no meaning to him.  Hermione was everything, she was all-encompassing...she was…

 

A loud noise shot through the air and he turned, his teeth bared in a snarl as he went nearly feral in his protectiveness of his mate. The air crackled with a spell and he grabbed the corner of his cloak, pulling it over Hermione to shield her with his body as she clung to him, begging him to protect her.

 

Another hot sharp pain hit him square in the back and he held her close to his chest, their hearts beating together, their bodies connected to the last as darkness filled his sight and his consciousness was lost.

* * *

 

Dumbledore frowned as he looked down at the figures lying in the bed. All attempts to separate the two had failed, and in the interest of avoiding accusations of impropriety, he’d moved them down into Professor Snape’s personal chambers in the dungeons instead of the infirmary.

 

A rather surly Pansy Parkinson had been frog-marched to the Headmaster’s office by Draco Malfoy of all people, who had finally admitted (with a bit of prodding through Occlumency) to having caught Hermione Granger unawares on her way back from the library and casting a very nasty bit of spellwork on the bushy haired Gryffindor.  Apparently, from the memories he’d seen, it was from the Parkinson’s family archives- a spell so ancient that it required advanced knowledge of runic tracing.  Of course, Pansy’s parents had taught her these skills from the time when she was very young (they even let her use her grandmother’s wand to practice).  Originally used as a way to bend the desire of a suitor of good blood to marry into their family, this spell was binding to the last. What was worse was that, due to a clerical error in the fourteenth century, it was still recognized as a binding marriage contract.  Dumbledore had checked with the Ministry, of course, and sure enough, they were on the registry.

 

Once the relationship was consummated, both individuals were bound for life, their bodies magically brought completely in sync with the other.  Of course, a spell like this had no counterspell, as it was meant to bind for one’s natural lifetime.  It could also not compel love, merely perfect  _ physical _ compatibility.  Apparently, Pansy had only read the part about the “creates and compels lustful feelings” section in the book, thinking it adequate punishment for setting Granger up to be set upon by Draco and his three friends after Draco had dumped her the week before and she’d found out that the bushy-haired Gryffindor had been the reason for it. And, in a huff and obviously not thinking clearly, she’d decided to set up this trap for Draco, ostensibly to tear apart his friendships with his fellow Slytherins and ruin his chances forever when Hermione finally regained her senses.

 

Of course, Pansy had been far too stupid to read far enough to know that this would never be the case.  Sure, twenty-four hours after their initial connection, those under its spell would both be able to function normally, but even if no deeper emotional attachment formed, they’d be drawn together for life again and again.  Their bodies were, for all intents and purposes, perfectly in tune with one another.  And this didn’t even begin to touch on the fact that the spell also enhanced fertility and nullified most contraceptive spells. 

 

And it had been nearly a full day before they’d finally been discovered.

 

Dumbledore frowned.  They were still unconscious under the Full Body Bind for the time being. Pansy would be disciplined harshly, of course, but there couldn’t be a large stink made about the incident or the parents would find all about what had happened and it would be damaging to Dumbledore’s hard-won alliances.  The truth was that, now that Voldemort had been completely defeated, he didn’t really  _ need _ Snape, but it had been useful to have an expendable wizard to use as his designated Dirty Jobs man and he’d been unwilling to give that up.  Besides, Snape had been so desperate when he was trying to save Lily that he’d basically signed away his free will in that vow.  But Dumbledore knew that if he wanted to save face, he’d need to set something up to make this fiasco go away.

 

He frowned deeply and sighed, his eyes cold and sad as he turned and made his way to his office to send out a number of important letters.

 

Both Severus and Miss Granger would understand. It would be for the greater good.  

 

_ His _ greater good, but the greater good nonetheless.

* * *

 

“You’re going away? But  _ why _ ?” Ron’s pleading whine simply made Hermione grit her teeth where once it had been almost welcome in a way.  Thinking back, she wondered if it had simply been a bout of temporary insanity, because now the grating tone of his voice made her want to scream.

 

“I told you,  _ Ronald _ , it’s a  _ very _ special opportunity!” she sniffed, crossing her arms as Ron and Harry helped her carry her trunk down the stairs. “Thanks to the advanced study program I’ve been accepted into, I will have my Mastery in both Potions and Transfiguration by the end of this year!”

 

“Yeah, but why would you even want to take it when it’s with... _ him _ ?” Harry asked confusedly. “I mean...it’s...Snape!”

 

“Indeed, I  _ am _ ,” said a rather familiar voice.

 

The young men gaped at the tall professor standing imposingly in the middle of the Gryffindor common room in all of his midnight-black robed glory.

 

“Thank you for waiting for me, Professor,” Hermione said primly, doing her best to still her quivering hand and keep it from reaching for his.  She wanted to touch him so badly it was like an itch she couldn’t wait to scratch.

 

“I shall handle  _ that _ ,” Snape said shortly, pointing his wand at the trunk and shrinking it to a tiny size as Harry and Ron quickly leapt out of the way.  Neither of them were willing to test Snape’s willingness to  _ accidentally _ hit them with a well-timed spell.

 

He levitated it to Hermione, who put it in her jacket pocket, and one corner of his mouth quirked up as she looked up at him with huge, gratitude filled eyes. She noticed, then, that he’d clutched the side of his robes with one hand because it was quivering just as badly as hers for what was most definitely the same reason, and she resolved to remedy that as soon as they were away from prying eyes.

 

“Come on, then,” he said, turning sharply on his heel and putting distance between the two of them.  It helped Hermione think a bit more clearly when he was further away, but it also made her ache to close the distance between them as well.  

 

Prying eyes followed their movements down the stairs as ghosts and paintings as well as students and staff alike whispered and speculated at what was happening.  It was strange enough that Hermione was leaving Hogwarts early, but Dumbledore had announced that he would be teaching Defense for the rest of the year, as Snape was to go abroad to administer a special program for Hermione’s advanced early double Mastery due to her utter brilliance.  Everyone was certain that there was more to the story, but oddly enough, there had been zero rumors circulating, which made everyone even more deeply suspicious.

* * *

  
  


Dumbledore met them at the doors to the castle with a wide sweeping motion of his hand as he waved them ahead of him.  Turning back, he cast a very serious look at the students who were standing on the upper landings and peeking from around the corner from the Great Hall, who all beat a swift retreat.

 

Walking them out to the Forbidden Forest, Dumbledore made small talk with the pair, only flinching slightly when he saw that, though he hadn’t seen it happen, Severus was somehow now holding Hermione’s hand, their fingers entwined as they walked in perfect step together.  As he watched their breathing even out as they reestablished physical contact, he sighed sadly.

 

“I’m so sorry that...that you have been forced into this,” he said, a twinge of guilt filling him as he realized he was more sad that his favorite tool was slipping from his fingers forever.

 

Severus shot him a withering glare as though reading his mind.

 

“I’m not unhappy at all, Headmaster,” Hermione said with a grin at her new husband. “Quite the opposite, actually.”

 

“My sentiments  _ exactly _ ,” Severus purred softly, turning back to Dumbledore with a sneer. “Does it matter how it happened as long as things turn out well?  Madam Wrenspret is an excellent Transfiguration Master.  Minerva has told me that Hermione will be lucky to study under her.”

 

“I see,” Dumbledore chuckled, though the mirth didn’t reach his eyes as he stared rather pointedly at Hermione’s waist. “And you are prepared for...all of the  _ eventualities _ ?”

 

“I…” Hermione went scarlet as she followed the Headmaster’s line of sight.

 

Severus stepped in front of her protectively, his face reddening with anger.

 

“Now see here, Albus!” he hissed, “You shall  _ not _ make my  _ wife _ feel horrible or embarrassed about her condition. Say what you will about  _ me _ , but leave her  _ alone _ !”

 

“Yes, you’re very right Severus,” Dumbledore replied, “Just be sure not to make more mouths than you can feed.”

 

“Don’t you mean how many YOU can feed, seeing as you’re going to pay for all of this out of your own pocket to keep anyone from finding out about it?” Severus shot back.

 

“It’s true that I’ve created...a fund to manage the tragic outcome of Miss Parkinson’s poor decision making skills, but it is not infinite,” Dumbledore replied darkly.

 

“If you’re going to say things like that, then maybe we’ll try to outdo the Weasleys!” Hermione shouted, going scarlet as both men turned to look back at her, Albus wide-eyed with surprise and Severus with a bit of a pink-tinged blush at the implication of her words.

 

“I think it’s probably best if we leave before it comes to fisticuffs,” Severus drawled. “After all, Albus here isn’t wearing his dueling robes today and it wouldn’t be proper. And as we all know, Albus is all for keeping up appearances as long as they suit him over all others..”

 

“Yes, well, I wish you both..er...all of you good health and a safe trip to your destination,” Dumbledore said after an awkward silence.

 

“We shall endeavor to do so,” Severus replied with a smirk.

 

Albus stepped back and away from the couple, nodding to let Snape know he was finally excused from service. Hermione pressed against Snape’s black buttoned robes with a look of pure bliss as he wrapped his arm around her tightly and Apparated them away.

 

“Such a waste,” Albus murmured.  He’d had such plans for Granger too, but now...she was lost to him.  Oh well, Potter and Weasley were still in his grasp.  There were still many plans to be made, plans for the future.  And if two souls had escaped his machinations, it wasn’t really all that big a deal in the long run.

 

Still, part of him felt cheated for letting Severus out of his Vow.

 

“Oh well, what’s the muggle saying? Ah yes. You win some, you lose some,” Dumbledore said sanguinely as he popped a lemon drop into his mouth and tottered back to the castle.

* * *

 

Hermione tossed and turned in bed and tried to ignore the horrible screaming pain of her overfull bladder. Finally, she pulled herself out of its warmth, grumbling all the while as she did so.  She had trouble running to the bathroom, but still she supposed she got there quickly enough in the end. When she returned to the bed, she had no sooner scooted onto the mattress before two long arms shot out to grab her and pull her close to a very warm and very naked chest.

 

“Bathroom?” his voice was playful in the near dark of the early morning.

 

“Bathroom,” she grumbled irritably as he pulled her close, his warm feet slipping over her cold ones and rubbing them until they were warm again as well.

 

“You are amazing, Hermione,” he said softly, his voice whispering into her ears and making her shudder with delight. “You’re nearly done with all of your studies, you’ve got nearly perfect marks…”

 

“And  _ whose _ fault is that?” Hermione replied playfully, “ _ You’re _ the one who marked me down for brewing a perfect Sondheim potion that was less than a millimeter off in volume than it was supposed to be.”

 

“Oh, sure, blame  _ me _ ,” he purred, his breath hot on her lips as his hand trailed down to squeeze her arse.

 

“You  _ can _ blame me for  _ this _ , if you’d like,” she said softly, her hand stroking his rather insistent erection. “In fact, I’d welcome the diversion.”

 

Gently, he helped her roll onto her knees, kissing her neck and stroking her back in her preferred manner as she moaned and pressed her arse into him insistently. Covering her body from behind, he slipped inside of her with ease, his eyes rolling back in their sockets as he cupped one of her full breasts with one hand and stroked another hand against the swollen curve of her belly. Hermione moaned as he used his thumb to press and flick at her nipple, and his eyes widened at the moisture that he felt there.

 

“Lactating already? How intriguing,” he purred, placing his finger in his mouth and tasting the sweetness of it. He’d probably never want to suckle at her breasts in such a manner, but it was yet another reminder of the monumental thing they’d done together.

 

Creating life.  

 

Whereas all he’d done before was bring death and destruction to everyone around him, now, as he stroked back and forth inside of his wife, his love, his mated partner, his head filled with light as he stroked her pregnant belly. Oh, he would give her anything, anything she asked, even….

 

“Were you serious about outdoing the Weasleys?” he asked huskily, his voice a low moan as he tried to get the words out. The thought was maddeningly hot.

 

Hermione panted with each stroke inside of her, pressing back against him gently so that he would bottom out just firmly enough to send a jolt of pleasure up her spine.

 

“Only if you are willing and able.” Hermione replied with a smirk as she panted with each stroke inside of her.

 

“Oh god, yes,” he replied, biting his lip as he tried to keep himself from coming right then and there.

 

“I’m  _ so _ close,” she cried softly, “Please, Severus, fuck me slowly and deliberately just like that first time when you first filled me up, when you first knocked me up... _ oh, please _ !”

 

He could not help but do as she’d asked, feeling her shiver and moan exquisitely as she reached her peak, drawing his own orgasm from his body as he growled low and filled her to the brim, his body shuddering with release as they both collapsed onto their sides his body still spooning hers.

 

Stroking her belly softly, he could feel movement below her skin as his unborn child rolled and kicked softly against his touch.

 

_ His.  Theirs. _  The thought filled him with a giddiness and protective pride that he’d never felt before.

 

“It looks like we woke our little one,” he said softly, kissing Hermione’s ear as she pressed into his touch in pleasure.

 

“Oh, we’re already such bad parents, aren’t we?” Hermione sighed, covering his hands with hers.

 

“Then I suppose you wouldn’t be averse to being  _ bad _ for a little longer?” he replied, stroking her body until she was nearly incoherent with pleasure and touching her until she cried out, lost in the throes of another orgasm. “I live for the feeling of your pleasure at my touch, my love.”

 

“And I yours,” she replied dreamily, angling her body gently to allow his recovered erect cock entry as they spooned and cuddled and fucked until both were spent and lost in the afterglow of orgasm once more.

* * *

 

Hermione received her mastery certifications in a small ceremony with a handful of other Apprenticed students at the Ministry the following September.  She stood in her finest black silk robes with scarlet and gold trim as well as a tiny emerald snake pin with ruby eyes in her lapel. It had been a gift from Severus, and she couldn’t deny him his little jest.  After all, the idea of a Gryffindor wearing a Slytherin sigil was rather ridiculous, but she was proud of her husband and prouder still of what they’d accomplished together.

 

She looked out at the crowd, which was rather small, but still substantial enough to keep her from seeing individual people.  Severus had been teasing her lately about needing glasses, for though her books were as clear as ever, things just seemed to get a bit fuzzy the further away they were.  Perhaps he was right.  Harry and Ron were supposed to be out there somewhere. She hoped that she could find them afterwards. 

 

Her heart skipped a beat as she looked down at the front row and saw Severus holding their infant daughter, Rose. His dark eyes shone full of pride for his beloved wife’s achievements.  The baby wore a celery green dress and he held her up as though she were the most important thing in the world, waving her pudgy little hand gently at her mother.  Hermione waved cheerfully back and held up her certificates as the Ministry official with the camera at the end of the stage took a picture with a bored looking expression.

 

Once the ceremony was over, and all of the newly minted Masters had retaken the stage for a final bow and a photograph, Hermione finally found Severus and threw her arms around both him and their daughter with a squeak of joy.

 

“I see that Rose’s infuriating habit of not sleeping for more than three hours at a time has not dampened your spirits,” Severus said, his mouth relaxed in a tiny grin as he affectionately kissed his daughter’s cheeks before turning and kissing Hermione on the lips. “Do tell me how you do it.”

 

“Easy,” Hermione replied with a smirk as she patted her breasts, “I’m the walking set of feedbags, after all.”

 

Severus snorted, his tall, thin frame racked with silent laughter as the stress lines eased around his eyes.

 

“I fear that such an option is not available to me, my love,” he replied finally, taking a deep breath and staring at her with an amused expression.

 

“Oh really? I’m sure I can find some ancient spell that will grant you a huge, heavy, milk-producing rack as well, if you really want it, that is,” Hermione replied, snickering a little.

 

Severus arched an eyebrow and shook his head slightly as his smirk widened as he bent down close to her ear.

 

“There’s only one huge rack that I want, and it happens to be  _ yours _ ,” he replied softly in a maddeningly sexy voice.

 

“Goddamn it,” Hermione fumed, “We really  _ are _ going to outdo the Weasleys if you keep this up.”

 

“ _ Naturally _ ,” he replied, chuckling deeply, and she could feel a flutter in the pit of her belly as her desire flared once more.

 

And they did  _ indeed _ live happily ever after.


End file.
